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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29310705">dsmp shorts | a collection</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ash_Wings24/pseuds/asheislost'>asheislost (Ash_Wings24)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>DSMP - Fandom, Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Blood and Gore, Emotional Manipulation, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, No Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, No Lesbians Die, No Sex, No Smut, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Shorts, no beta we die like men</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:40:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,518</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29310705</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ash_Wings24/pseuds/asheislost</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>the kind of shorts you wear in bed while crying or the kind you wear outside, feeling awesome. it depends on the mood i’m in ;)</p><p>/mostly angst<br/>/don’t @ cc’s</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>beetwt, bunker buddies - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Ghosts Of Our Past | Pogtopia</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>inspired by twitter &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You want to see a real relic?” Tubbo smiles cheerfully, pulling a lantern from his backpack, wrapped around his stomach. He led Ranboo through the woods. The taller man had to bend down to not hit the treetops with his head.</p><p>“These are low trees.” Ranboo groaned, his back aching.</p><p>“Fine for me. You blend right in, stick.” Tubbo leads Ranboo down a hill near water. A large, pink striped tower stood tall and obnoxiously.</p><p>“What is that?” </p><p>“Something Tommy made. I remember ‘helping’, but it was more like Tommy continuously mining the blocks under me.”</p><p>Ranboo snickered, and was quickly, lightly smacked on the arm. Tubbo shook his head vigorously, disappointed, before leading him into a hole in the mountain. A poorly made and worn down staircase led the boys into a very dark ravine.</p><p>“This place used to be a lot brighter.”</p><p>“Where are we?”</p><p>“This is Pogtopia. It’s where Tommy and Wilbur resided after...” Tubbo lit the lantern in hand, “After Schlatt’s win.”</p><p>“Is Schlatt that bad guy?”</p><p>“I suppose.” Tubbo coughed, disturbed by the dust settled in the steps.</p><p>Ranboo stepped down from the bottom step cautiously. He followed Tubbo, who carried the light.</p><p>“Here, you’ll need this more than I—“</p><p>“Do you hear that?” Ranboo asked, his long ears perking up. Distant whispers bounced off the cavern’s stone walls.</p><p>“No,” Tubbo frowned, “And careful not to press any buttons.”</p><p>“Where are you going?” Ranboo watched Tubbo, frantically, as the deer horned boy turned a heel.</p><p>“I’m gonna go loot the place. Be careful, memory boy.”</p><p>“Mmkay,” Ranboo breathed a heavy sigh. The lantern’s light barely shone on cracked walls and varieties of wooden buttons littering the walls.</p><p>He almost fell into a deep hole, a pit if you will. The walls in the pit were caked in old blood, the rotten smell, disturbing. It smelled of fear. He didn’t like it. So, he turned around, praying to walk away from the scene. Something paralysed him, whispering to him shouts of familiar voices.</p><p>It sounded like Ghostbur, Technoblade, and Tommyinnit. But the fact that none of these people were down here to his knowledge left him shaking.</p><p>Why did Ghostbur sound so mean? Tommy sounded angry? Techno sounded... tired. Where were these voices coming from? Surely there’s a tape or something hidden in the rocks. Maybe Ranboo triggered something by walking over here.</p><p>“Tubbo?” He yelled slightly, listening to his deep voice bounce off the ravine walls.</p><p>“Yeah? Whassup Ranboo?” Tubbo popped up from a deeper cave on the right of enderboy.</p><p>“You can hear these... voices? Right?” </p><p>Tubbo looked around the two of them, confused.</p><p>“I don’t—“</p><p>“I can even hear you.”</p><p>Tubbo frowned. “What can you hear?”</p><p>“I— I was hearing about a fight. Something in that pit, I assume. Then I heard you over there.” Ranboo points the empty hand to a familiar point in the walls. </p><p>“Now he can’t breathe...” Tubbo chuckled.</p><p>“Yes. Wait. You can hear them?”</p><p>“No. In my head, yes,” He smiles, “Because they are memories of mine. Not the best ones, but they are there. The pit happened because Technoblade killed me. I forgive him. And the whole bit, I presume you can hear Tommy shouting from the walls over here? Yeah. That’s because he isn’t very good with redstone.”</p><p>Ranboo laughed airily as Tubbo revisited Pogtopia and it’s memories.</p><p>“I’m not sure how you can hear all this.”</p><p>“I don’t know,” Ranboo smiled nervously, “But you seem happy.”</p><p>“I’m not... It wasn’t a happy time.”</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>“But I didn’t fall into darkness like someone I knew. I managed, and now I thrive! Snowchester is going to be better.”</p><p>The two took time going back up the steps.</p><p>“Just no government, right?”</p><p>“Of course. We are a collective,” Tubbo bit his lips, laughing. </p><p>The light from the moon shone through the broken side of the hill, showing them their way back, with the help of the lantern. It would be better. History wouldn’t repeat itself this time.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. You’ve Changed | Revivebur and Tommy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>hurt/comfort inspired by @soapsoappp on twitter</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Wilbur groaned at the light, unfamiliar now, and bright. Voices echoed in his sore head.</p><p>“It worked!” Eret gasped.</p><p>“Wilbur. Can you hear me? Can you see me?” Philza knelt beside the pained man. He frantically tries to sit up his son.</p><p>“Yeah, yeah... Phil?” Wilbur’s throat was scratchy and sore. It’s been a while since he had spoken.</p><p>“What’s up, Will?” </p><p>“Where’s Tommy?”</p><p>////</p><p>“Tommy! It worked,”  Philza called, helping Wilbur through the cabin doors. He started to guide Wilbur around, giving him a short tour. Ranboo peaked in, curious. “Oh. Just so you know, mate. Tommy hasn’t been very social as of late. Sorry about that.”</p><p>“Don’t apolo— Toms?” </p><p>Tommy climbed up the ladder from downstairs, facing Wilbur and Philza. He stared, stricken by silence.</p><p>“Wilbur?”</p><p>“Hey, Tommy.” His voice was stuck in his throat, and he wasn’t able to get out much else.</p><p>“You’re... You’re here?”</p><p>“I am.” He smiled, stepping towards the ladder his younger brother clung onto. Tommy seemed to shrink away, visibly shaking, possibly paralysed.</p><p>“Toms?”</p><p>“Hey, Will.” </p><p>He sounded so small, so weak. His beautiful blue eyes were wet with fear. </p><p>“You okay?”</p><p>Philza watched, wondering what was happening. What would happen.</p><p>“Y— yes.”</p><p>“Come up.” Wilbur took a few steps back, giving Tommy plenty of space. Tommy looked wary of the situation, with one hand still around the stick ladder.</p><p>“What’s wrong?” </p><p>Tommy shook his head, biting his lips to blood.</p><p>“You’re stressed,” Wilbur breathed easy, surveying the small cabin room. Tommy’s eyes darted between the two adults in the room. “Phil. Leave.”</p><p>“Wh— ay?” </p><p>“Leave.”</p><p>Philza huffed, confused. The door set lightly after him, crunching snow fading as the warm air flooded the room once more. Ranboo followed, running after Phil to hang out.</p><p>“How are you, bud?” Wilbur sat against the wall, eyes polite.</p><p>“Fine.”</p><p>“Please, be honest, Toms.”</p><p>Tommy sat across from Wilbur, eyeing him carefully. His breathing was unsteady, Wilbur noticed, as he watched his brother’s chest rise and fall shakily.</p><p>“Scared.”</p><p>“What’s scaring you?” </p><p>Tommy shuffled, bringing his knees to his chin.</p><p>“What isn’t?” He laughed.</p><p>“How has Philza been treating you?”</p><p>“Fine.”</p><p>“Really?” Wilbur frowned, doubtful. “You seem lonesome. Neglected.”</p><p>“You...” He mumbled.</p><p>“I what?”</p><p>“You left me!” Tommy cried, shoving his head into his knees. He panted heavily.</p><p>“I know,” He looked at his brother, eyes deep brown with despair. “I’m sorry about that.” </p><p>“If I seem alone, that’s because no one wants me.”</p><p>“What?” Wilbur chuckled nervously, concerned.</p><p>“Tubbo obviously doesn’t want me. You don’t. Not even Dream does!”</p><p>“What did Tubbo do to make you think this?”</p><p>Tommy choked up, stumbling on his words. “He tossed me out like an old rug. He left me with Dream. He left me alone.”</p><p>“And Dream?”</p><p>“Dream just used me! I think he was my friend. Is. But I’m not sure. He isn’t ever there when I need him.”</p><p>“Phil?”</p><p>“He’s only here for Techno.”</p><p>“Well, I’m here now. I won’t leave again, I swear to you.”</p><p>The blonde looked up doubtfully, pulling his head from his knees. Wilbur gave soft eyes, letting Tommy crawl across the wooden floor and over to him. Tommy’s head fell into Wilbur’s lap, tired.</p><p>“You really won’t leave me again?”</p><p>“I’m here to stay.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>@soapsoappp on twitter</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Ranboo and Tubbo AU</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*dropkicks this to your face* here’s an unfinished au idea i had. ranboo runs a flower shop across the street from tubbo’s adventure shop.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Warm air filtered through frosty windows, facing out East where a newly risen sun fed hanging plants. Ranboo looked around the small corner shop, Moss Mountains, seeing a very open space with shelves of handmade crafts, antiques, and lines of old clothes. The wooden floor freaked under his shoes, his hand brushing against a dusted shelf of crystals and geodes.</p><p>A small, dark haired teenager smiled from the counter. Ranboo couldn’t make eye contact, but waved awkwardly.</p><p>“Welcome to Moss Mountains! Said to face the North side, but really... I don’t know directions. What can I do for you?” His southern British accent peaked interest to the American. He hadn’t been in England long, and the speech was still unnatural to his ears.</p><p>Before Ranboo could muster out some words, the cashier kept talking.</p><p>“I like your hair. I’ve always wanted to dye mine!”</p><p>“Oh— it’s not... it’s not dyed.”</p><p>The staff, with name badge saying Tubbo, looked confused.</p><p>“Not dyed? Well, then how’d you do that funky thing there? With the white and black?” </p><p>Ranboo runs his gloved hands through his short hair, finding some knots in the back from sleeping. “It’s natural. Some of my hair cells are weirdly aged and don’t show colour,” He hides his face, embarrassed. </p><p>Tubbo waves his hands in defense, trying to not make the situation any more awkward. “I think it’s cool. I’ve never seen anything natural like that...” He made it awkward. “Anyway! What can I get for you?”</p><p>“Oh. I’m not sure.” The taller boy looks around, nervously. He didn’t have a plan. “I didn’t come in for anything specific. Just thought the shop looked... cool?”</p><p>“Well, thank you! The owner is really never around so I reordered everything. Much prefer my own form of organisation!” He beams, gazing around at his fresh piece of work.</p>
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